


On Your Marks

by Ivy_Brooks



Series: Jailbait [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Not Hunters, Barely Legal, Bottom Castiel, Butt Plugs, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, Marking, Mild Painplay, Name-Calling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Size Difference, Spanking, Top Dean, Twink Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1938813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivy_Brooks/pseuds/Ivy_Brooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel needs to be taught a lesson. So Dean does what any normal person would do with a misbehaving twink; bends him over his knee, spanks him, and fucks him hard. Cas doesn't seem to be viewing it as much of a punishment, however.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Your Marks

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: NC-17  
> Pairing: Dean/Cas  
> Warnings/Tags: Twink Castiel, Barely Legal, Butt Plugs, Spanking, Dom/Sub, Top Dean, Bottom Castiel, Size Difference, Age Difference, Dirty Talk, Alternate Universe - Not Hunters, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Name Calling  
> Notes: More mindless, self-indulgent sex. You're welcome.

Castiel got home later than Dean, which the mechanic was _definitely_ grateful for. Eventually, Cas would probably have near the exact same timetable Dean himself had, but until the teen had proved his skills to Bobby, he'd be suffering overtime for anything up to two months. Just like Dean had had to endure when he'd first been employed all those years ago. 

It was the third weekend of the month, otherwise known as " _that_ weekend". When Cas would say that he was going round Balthazar's or make up some other bullshit excuse to stay in Dean's apartment for forty-eight hours of talking, cuddling and hot sex. Mostly the latter. 

This weekend was particularly special though, because Dean was actually _planning_ something. 

See, he wasn't really the 'planning' type of guy - impromptu sex in the back of his car? Totally expected. Throwing a meal together out of the desolation of his fridge? Predictable. But _planned_? Hold the phone and stop the race, Dean Winchester was on a damn _mission_. 

Mission being: putting Cas back in line. 

The teen had been driving him nuts for so goddamn _long_ now that Dean needed to sit back for an hour nearly everyday just to _breathe_. It was like being eighteen all over again, with uncontrollable hormones attacking his brain and the ability to go from zero to sixty in less than three seconds where his dick was concerned. He didn't know how to deal with it. 

How to deal with Cas being such a fucking _brat_. 

Don't get him wrong; Dean loved the way Cas liked to give orders. Loved the way his boy could coax him into a pure, lustful rage and taunt him about it afterwards with cocky smirks and snide remarks. It was just Cas, being a smug bastard as usual. 

But tonight, Dean wanted revenge. Plain and simple. He wanted to remind Cas who was in charge and dammit, the teenager was gonna lie back and keep his bossy mouth shut for once. 

Dean heard the front door creak open, and he settled himself further into the couch, sinking into the cushions, focussing intently on the Doctor Sexy M.D episode flashing up on the screen, his heart speeding up. 

_On your marks._

"Thank God they have a shower at that place," Cas' voice drifted in from the hallway, soft clacks sounding as he took off his shoes, "Grease was _all_ over me. Mr Picket needs to get a better car - his engine is completely inadequate."

_Get set_. 

The teen drifted around the doorway, took two steps forward and promptly stopped dead, mouth hung open on the end of his sentence. 

_Go._

"You just gonna stand there? Or are you just gonna gape like a fish all night?" Dean asked smoothly, pouring a little more power into his questions than he normally would've, eyes never once leaving the TV screen. He needed to play his part _just_ right. Needed to reaffirm his position. Make it completely clear. 

"You're..." Cas paused, "Why are you naked, Dean?"

Dean ignored the way the leather of the sofa was beginning to stick to his gradually dampening skin, keeping his face a mask of complete indifference. _Just right._

"'Cause it's my damn house, that's why. Now sit down."

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Cas tentatively shifted closer, body bending to sit on the couch. Dean snapped his fingers, stopping the teen dead in his tracks. 

"I didn't say on the couch," he pointed to the space between his spread legs, clicking his fingers again - the action might've seemed pretty dickish, but he heard Cas' sharp intake of breath and he took it as a sign of encouragement, "On your knees. Face me."

Cas obeyed swiftly, Dean's gaze on the TV all the while - he wasn't actually paying one iota of attention, but it all added to the effect and that was all that concerned him at the moment. 

He let the kid stew for a few minutes, sat like that, mouth inches away from Dean's half-hard cock. Dean attempted to lose himself in the story arc of Doctor Piccolo and her affair with one of the patients, and he was managing it quite well until one of Cas' impatient hands smoothed up his thigh. Immediately, his brain went into overdrive, and he fell into character easily. 

"Hands off," he ordered, pleased at the frustrated little huff he got in return. Inwardly, he was grinning. This was getting easier by the minute. 

"Dean, this isn't exactly _fair_ -"

"Five," Dean interrupted. He could feel Cas' confusion wash over him like a physical wave, thick and honest. 

"What? Dean this really isn't funny -"

"Ten," Dean counted again, finally dragging his gaze down to meet Cas' pinched one, the deep blue clouded with confusion. Dean let a crooked grin stretch his lips, "That's for speaking out of turn. Not very patient, are we?"

Cas rolled his eyes, shooting a glare at the older man, "No Dean, I'm not -"

"Fifteen - for answering without permission. You're really not getting this, are you Cas?"

Cas' mouth snapped shut, eyes widening. Ah. That'd be the situation hitting home. Victory swelled in Dean's gut, his inner voice roaring in triumph. Looks like he was getting somewhere. Finally. 

"See, Cas," He leant forwards, running his hands loosely through that thick shock of black hair, "I've decided I've had enough. You need to learn a lesson about who's really in charge here," he tugged lightly on the onyx strands, "That would be me, by the way."

He watched the pink sliver of Cas' tongue dart out to moisten his his chapped bottom lip, throat bobbing slowly as Dean coaxed the teen's head back, baring that long stretch of neck. He let his eyes linger on it for a moment, forming careful words in his heaad. 

"So I thought to myself, 'How can I teach a stubborn teenager the importance of authority?' and then it hit me," he leant in close, pulling Cas up on his knees to go nose to nose with him, hot puffs of the teen's excited breath ghosting over his lips, "Bad boys like you need to be _punished_ , don't they? Are you a bad boy, Cas? You can answer."

This was it. This was the pivotal point. The point where Cas could either agree with wholehearted consent to Dean's game or flat out deny him. Dean tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating, how damn hard he'd gotten from talking to the teen in such a way. It felt too damn good to be true. 

Cas was wide-eyed, blue eyes catching the sharp light from the TV and reflecting it back. He opened his mouth, watching Dean avidly. 

"...I'm a bad, _bad_ boy, Dean."

Relief flooded Dean's veins, almost overpowering the absolute lust he felt at hearing such sinful words falling from Cas' innocent looking mouth. He didn't have time to relish the feeling yet, however - he still needed to act whilst the timing was right. 

"That's what I thought," Dean agreed, voice gruff as he tightened his grip in the kid's hair, "And you've earned fifteen smacks on that tight ass of yours already, haven't you? Not a good start, is it Cas?"

Cas shook his head minutely, waiting for the next word that fell out of Dean's mouth like it was a sacred prayer. The pure focus in that gaze was all directed on Dean at once, and he felt fucking _giddy_ because it was so damn _powerful_. 

"Get up and strip," He commanded, releasing Cas' hair with more force than necessarily needed, sending the teen careening back on his haunches, flushed and breathless. Dean leant leisurely back into the cushions, glad to note the bulge in the kid's jeans, "Afterwards, you get over here and bend yourself over my knees. This punishment's been a long time coming, hasn't it Cas? Answer."

Cas had gotten to his feet, and was nodding vigorously as he pulled his tee over his head, hands flying to his jean's zipper. 

"Yes, Dean. A... a very long time," Cas breathed. 

"Twenty," Dean grinned at the shocked stare he got in return, "I'm 'sir' to you, boy."

The taller man grinned when Cas bit his lip - a little trait Dean had began to pick up on a couple of weeks ago. It was a little gesture that read, loud and clear, as: 'I'm fucking enjoying this, Dean.' It sent spikes of pleasure zig-zagging down to the older man's dick. He finally broke reserve and reached down, gripping himself hard, hissing at the contact of dry skin on dry skin. Thank God he'd thought ahead an put lube on the side table, otherwise he'd be fucked right about now. 

When his palm was relatively slick, he began fisting his cock lewdly, slowing his hand on the way down, squeezing and pushing all that pent up pleasure down into his groin, before twisting his wrist fast on the upstroke, thumb pausing just below the head, purely to savour the ecstatic jump of sensation as he slid his palm up and over the tip, lightning shooting downwards and making his balls settle, heavy and aching, between his legs. Teeth dug into his bottom lip, and he repeated the action over and over, slow and fast, agonising and fucking amazing all at once. He came so close to completion that he nearly forgot that Cas was in the room entirely, until he caught sight of miles of pale flesh in front of him, silhouetted by the glow of the now-muted TV. 

"Good boy," he praised, letting go of his cock, letting a full body shiver wrack his skin. He let his arms drift to his sides, easing forward and gesturing expectantly to his lap. Cas virtually leapt forwards, and Dean was pretty sure that nobody was supposed to be that enthusiastic about getting spanked. He stretched face-down across Dean's legs faster than the taller man thought was possible, pushing his pale ass up in offering. Dean's cock throbbed at the sight of the thick purple plug already stuffing the teen full - he'd taken to wearing it whenever he was around Dean, always wanting to be ready in case a situation arose. Like this one, for instance. 

"Too eager, little slut," Dean purred, crouching over to leave a few sparse kisses in the space between the smooth planes of Cas' shoulder blades - _is this okay, are you sure you're enjoying this?_ \- "You shouldn't like this. It defeats the purpose."

The first slap was sudden, but gentle - Dean didn't want to overstimulate the kid, after all. The teen tensed, a strained gasp falling from his lips as blood rushed to his skin. Oh yeah. This was gonna be fun. 

"Make as much noise as you like sweetheart," Dean murmured lowly, landing another smack that made Cas' ass bounce, jarring the plug nestled deep inside, "I wanna hear all those dirty little noises coming from your mouth - wanna hear you moan for me like the whore you are."

Another quick slap, followed by two in a row, more force put behind each one - Cas' back arched, a skinny arm reaching out to grip the sofa, the other flailing downwards to grip Dean's ankle, trying desperately to keep himself anchored as he cried out, hips making little jutting movements against Dean's thigh and good God, just when Dean didn't think Cas couldn't get any hotter, the kid fucking _delivered_. Nothing but a writhing mess of limbs and moaning and want across Dean's legs. 

"Fuck, you like that? Like being punished, don't you Cas?" Dean asked, running his palm soothingly over the reddened skin of Cas' ass - only five in on one cheek and the teen's skin was already like fire beneath Dean's palm, "Answer me baby. Tell me how much you like being bent over my knees and slapped raw."

He watched the back of Cas' head as he looked up, lean muscles bunching beneath the skin of his back. Dean ran his tongue along his lips, palm meeting the soft skin of Cas' ass again. The teen blurted out his answer in a rush. 

"Like it so much, sir," Cas panted, sounding as though he'd just ran a marathon, "Want you to do it again - w-want you to slap me like a whore. Make me beg for it, sir - sir please."

Dean couldn't even bring himself to point out that Cas shouldn't be giving orders at that point, because holy fuck, where the hell had the kid learnt to talk like _that_?

"You just get filthier with every word, you know that?" he chuckled, landing the seventh slap abruptly, making Cas buck on his knees, "I oughta fuck some manners back into you."

In a botched form of response, Cas keened low in his throat, and Dean actually felt the teen's cock throb against the side of his thigh, precum smearing onto his skin, and fuck, if that wasn't enough to make Dean groan then nothing could. 

He got harder with his smacks, changing pace and force, making Cas' ass a glorious shade of burning cherry red, the skin hot and soft against Dean's palm. He placed his other hand at the back of Cas' neck, fingers running through the sweaty black curls at the base and pushing the teen's head down, and the stream of curses that followed wasn't nearly as good a the way the kid starting driving his hips against Dean's knee.

"Again," Cas demanded, "Sir - sir _please...!_ "

The next slap - the nineteenth - was particularly forceful, and Dean could faintly see the reddish outline of his hand on Cas' butt cheek after it; as well as feeling a tell-tale wetness dripping on his opposing leg. 

Shit - was Cas _crying?_

He soothed a palm over the mark, leaning over the lithe form stretched across his knees in order to duck closer to Cas' ear. 

"You okay?" He murmured, breaking the scene just for a moment. He wouldn't continue if his baby boy was hurting. As turned on as he was, he simply refused to carry on unless both parties were enjoying it. 

"Please..." Cas whispered brokenly, digging his heels into the carpet to cant his hips into the air, presenting that fine ass for Dean to touch as he pleased, "Dean please. Once more, _please..._ "

Immediately, Dean relaxed back into the couch, extraordinarily relieved. 

"...Once more?" He teased, nearly laughing at Cas' eager little nod, "I don't know... Do you think you deserve it?"

The only garbled noise Cas could manage at that point was a strangled moan, head dipping between his shoulders to press submissive little kisses across Dean thigh - a silent kind of begging, and oddly, Dean found it rather cute. 

"Seeing as you've been so well behaved..." Dean trailed off, teasing Cas' raw skin with his fingers before pulling his hand back. He watched as Cas tensed, ready for the hit, but Dean waited a little longer, throwing the teen completely off beat. As soon as the quivering muscles in Cas' thigh relaxed, Dean landed his hardest smack yet, and all he heard was a choked " _Fuck!_ " before Cas came, spilling hot and sticky onto Dean's thigh, toes digging into the floor as he scrabbled at the sofa for purchase. 

It was so fucking _hot_. 

And it kind of reminded Dean how much his own cock was throbbing with the need to be buried in that tight ass. 

He didn't even wait for Cas to recover - he simply hooked one arm underneath Cas' chest and the other beneath his hips, and lifted the teen's slight frame easily as he stood. He slung the teen face-down over the arm of the couch, yanking out the thick purple plug and drawing a shocked yelp from the kid's raw throat, before feverishly squirting lube on Cas' gaping asshole and slamming in with a growl. That earned him a scream. 

"Fuck yes," he groaned, throwing his head back as he dug his fingers into those razor-sharp hipbones, impossibly _tight_ heat enveloping him, "Fucking _take it_ , Cas -"

Cas moaned when Dean put up a punishing pace, pistoning his hips in and out of that virgin tightness until they were both _drenched_ in sweat, panting and grunting as Dean fucked the kid into oblivion, hitting the oversensitive skin on the kid's ass over and over. 

This here was what he liked. He liked his boy fucked out and sloppy, writhing on the couch whilst his greedy little asshole took Dean's cock like it was second nature. On some wild impulse, he reached out a hand, grabbing a fistful of that messy mop of hair, and yanked - yanked and tugged until Cas' shaking back was pushed tight into Dean's chest, fucking himself hard on Dean's cock, mewling like a cat in heat, reaching around to wrap his fingers in the short hair on the back of Dean's head. 

Dean just kept going, balls slapping on the sensitive skin of Cas' ass before driving his cock as far in as it would go, rolling out figure-eights with his hips, relentlessly rubbing against the sweet spot inside that made Cas' back arch against him, and that was when the most _wrecked_ sounds Dean had ever heard fell from those chapped cocksucker lips. The teen's breathless whines of pleasure were interspersed with choking pleas and gasps of Dean's name, and it didn't take long for the older man to pound in deep and shiver as he climaxed, his mouth falling open soundlessly, teeth latching onto Cas' nape and biting down hard. Hard enough to leave a bruising mark that Cas would have to hide for days after. But by God, it was _worth_ it. 

Cas was panting, fingers so tight in Dean's hair that it hurt. He was breathing so heavy that Dean thought he might collapse, especially when he saw that the teen's knees were shaking. Softly, he smoothed his hands up and down Cas' sides, layering gentle kisses over the blossoming mark he'd just put on Cas' neck. The teen's fingers loosened slightly. 

"You okay?" Dean mumbled, peppering the soft skin of Cas' neck with tiny presses of his mouth because, fuck, the kid looked like he _needed_ it. He was trembling in Dean's arms, and the man began to think that maybe he'd been a little too rough. Gingerly, he nosed at Cas' ear, arms wrapping around the teen's naval, hands splayed across the teen's quivering abdomen, "Cas?"

Cas released a long breath, head dropping back to rest on Dean's shoulder. Tired blue eyes clashed with his own, sleepy smile adorning sex-hazed features. He looked giddy. Drunk on fucking. 

"You forgot the con-dom," he sing-songed, like he'd won a game, and Dean blinked, realisation creeping up on him. 

_Dammit_. Fucking twinks. 

"Hey," Cas soothed, voice absolutely _ruined_ , "We're both clean anyway. Besides," as if from the air itself, Cas produced the purple plug that Dean had taken out earlier, flourishing it with a flick of his wrist, "I like your come in my ass."

Dean's eyes widened. Somewhat awed, he said, "You're gonna be the death of me, Castiel Novak."

Cas just grinned, rolling his hips against Dean's rapidly hardening cock still buried inside his ass. 

"If you mean death by orgasm, then hell yeah," he grinned, scraping his nails across Dean's scalp, "That'd definitely be me."

Dean bit back a smirk, craning his neck to kiss that ridiculously gorgeous mouth again. 

Death by orgasm didn't sound so bad.


End file.
